


like an untouchable dream

by themysticalsong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [27]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though she had never doubted it, the similarities between the cottage in her dreams and the one in front of her stunned her. Right from the stones lining the walls, the wooden fence covered with peonies and carnations, to the small puddle in the garden- everything was as she had seen in her dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like an untouchable dream

 

 

 

Alex couldn’t take her eyes off the cottage ahead of her even if she wanted to. Even though she had never doubted it, the similarities between the cottage in her dreams and the one in front of her stunned her. Right from the stones lining the walls, the wooden fence covered with peonies and carnations, to the small puddle in the garden- everything was as she had seen in her dreams.

 

The dream itself was innocuous- at least had started as such. A small, remote village, tiny houses, greenery all around- it all seemed so familiar, and yet she knew she hadn’t ever been there. Always the same. Ever since she was a girl.

 

Lately, there was more, however. The dream wasn’t so benign anymore. There was more to it than just beautiful cottages. It seemed every night she entered a bit earlier, and left a little later. 

 

And every night, he was there. Sometimes a silhouette, sometimes a familiar laughter. Sometimes just a disembodied voice telling her to find something- what she didn’t know, but he was always there.

 

A vague hope fluttered inside her. After weeks of searching, may be here she would be able to find her answers.

 

That morning, Salome’s scream, bold letters printed in cold black ink were still fresh in her mind. They had found Matt’s car, wrecked beyond repair in the woods, probably not more than a mile from the cottage. Reports talked about a fire, and the official statement suggested Matt had perished in the fire.

 

In her dreams, he always asked her to  _find._

 

_Find what, Matt?_

 

Quietly opening the gates, Alex called out to the residents, waited for some sort of reaction, may be dogs to come running at the stranger.

 

Nothing.

 

She tried again, calling out a little louder, and stepping in as a frail voice beckoned her inside.

 

An old woman, perhaps in mid-80s, scanned her up and down before a small smile appeared on her face. ”You are Alex, aren’t you? Alex Kingston?”

 

"Y-yes."

 

The old woman smiled gently as Alex nodded, getting up from her seat and moving to a set of drawers. “Don’t be so scared, dearie”, she spoke in calm tones, reminding Alex of her own grandmother, “I know you by his words. Used to tell me about the woman with gorgeous curls. He used to say ‘she’ll come, Nana. Even if no one does, she’ll come.’” She smiled as she returned to Alex with a bunch of letters, “Here.”

 

Somehow those words gave her a hope, even as unease lingered in corners of her heart. For the first time in a long while, she could feel her lips curl up in a smile as relief flooded her soul, “Where is he? Can I see him?”

 

The old lady looked up in confusion, “Who?”

 

"Matt", a little uncertain, Alex held up the letters, "these are from Matt, right? He must be here."

 

The old woman only shook her head.

 

 

—x—

 

 

Drenched in cold sweat, curls sticking to her forehead, Alex woke up with a start.

 

The letters on her bedside table told her it wasn’t a dream. Matt really was dead. The sadness she had seen in the old woman’s face had told her everything she wanted to know.

 

She picked up the letter on the top, reading it through a haze of tears.

 

_"Into my life, larger than life, beautiful, you strolled in._  
 _I hid in my ordinary days, in the long grass of routine,_  
 _in my camouflage rooms. You sprawled in my gaze,_  
 _staring back from anyone’s face, from the shape of a cloud,_  
 _from the pining, earth-struck moon which gapes at me”_

 

In the space of few hours she had read and reread those letters countless times. They were short, all addressed to her, ranging from _’Hello, I love you’_  to poetry. Nothing else. 

 

Karen had said she was insane for going on the quest to find Matt. Perhaps she was.

 

The old woman had told her Matt had waited for days. Weakened and injured as he was, he had tried to contact everyone he knew, including her. Especially her. But nothing ever seemed to work out.

 

In the end, he had resorted to letters, knowing they would never reach her in time. There were ten in all, last one in a shaky handwriting.

 

Alex blinked back tears, getting up to get some water from the kitchen. There wasn’t any point. He wasn’t going to come back. She may as well accept what everyone else had already accepted.

 

Entering the kitchen, she shuffled towards the refrigerator. She would have to talk to Richard the ext day. So far he had been understanding, never even asked a question about why she had to suddenly go off in search of an obscure village in Wales, on a quest to find a man everyone thought was dead. She owed him answers.

 

"Alex."

 

She almost dropped the bottle in her hand at the familiar voice. Closing her eyes, she tried to tell herself it was just her imagination playing tricks with her.

 

That familiar self deprecating laughter. And it was close, so close.

 

She opened her eyes as he stepped closer. “Matt?”

 

Another smile. “One and the same, Kingston. Blimey, you do take your time.”

 

Tears pricked her eyes. 

 

Keeping the pink rose he had in his hand aside, Matt cupped her face in his hands, wiping off the tears with his thumbs.

 

"You shouldn’t even be here, Matt. You are not real."

 

She blinked back another wave of tears, as he chuckled, “I’m as real as you want me to be, Alex. And remember?” he pressed a kiss to her forehead before continuing,  ”I’m always here.”

 

Perhaps she was insane. “But you died, Matt. How can you be real?”

 

He tapped her nose lightly, and she could see the sheen of tears in his eyes, “No, Alex. I think the question is, why was it so important to find me? I missed you, wanted to see you one last time. Why was it important to you?”

 

 _Why was it so important?_  Hadn’t she asked herself that question a countless times? Somehow she managed a raspy whisper, “Do you really not know, Matt?”

 

Her eyes fluttered shut as he smiled and brushed his lips against hers, “I know, Kingston. The question is, do you know?”

 

Her mind warred with her heart in a bid to find the answer. Something that stared her in eyes, and yet not clear.

 

She struggled to open her eyes, more tears falling as she found herself alone in the kitchen, the lone pink rose sitting on her table.

 

 

 

 


End file.
